Fifteen
by PimpedOutGreenEars
Summary: Fifteen is by far the low point of my life thus far. There are plenty of things that I could probably name to explain why it's so horrible, but I think there's only one word I need to say to really sum it up: Puberty. PhineasxFerb. Now a series.
1. Boners

**Fifteen**

**Authors Note: Well, this was completly unplanned. I've had P&F on the brain lately and this just popped out today. Like I literally have 3 otber oneshots that I'm working on and this just came out of nowhere today. I'm not completly satisfied with it, especailly the ending, but I'm still happy to have written it. I'm also not for sure on how well I like my characterization of Phineas in this one. Also, this is my 50th story! Yeah! Anyway review and tell me what you think!**

* * *

><p>Fifteen is by far the low point of my life thus far. There are plenty of things that I could probably name to explain why it's so horrible, but I think there's only one word I need to say to really sum it up: Puberty.<p>

It's been Hell. I know most guys going through it don't overly like it, but it's been the worst thing that has ever happened to me!

See I first noticed it one day when I was talking to Isabella. I don't know what happened, but one minute we were talking about our science projects, and the next minute it just hit me. Isabella liked me. Like, she really liked me.

I had never noticed before that moment. But as she continued to talk I realized that nothing about the way she acted toward me had really changed over the years. I was just finally realizing her feelings for me.

It was like a bomb went off, and my shield of ignorance got torn away.

I didn't like her back. Not like that. But it wasn't like I could just tell her that. I could see that conversation going over well 'Hey Isabella, so I just realized you liked me, after nearly ten years of obvious flirting, and I wanted to let you know I don't like you back. Sorry you wasted two thirds of your life because of me.'

Yeah, not gonna have that conversation just yet.

Ferb's the only one who knows I don't like her. He's tried to steer her towards other people, but it's not really working.

And see Ferb is part of another one of my problems.

Girls love Ferb, hell, boys love Ferb! Everyone just loves Ferb! He's like a 6'1 British god. I blame the accent. That's what gets most girls hooked on him. At first they just think he's hot, but then he talks and they go crazy. Hell, at fifteen he dated Vanessa Doofenshmirtz! They didn't last, but how many fifteen year old guys get the chance to date a nineteen year old girl? A hot, nineteen year old girl? Not many, but Ferb did. And at seventeen he's even better looking, not to mention smarter, funnier, and just better. He really does get better with age. He's like fine wine, or something!

The thing about Ferb is that my fifteen year old body tends to see him in the exact same way that everyone else does. The word brother means absolutely nothing when I see him. My body just doesn't care that our parents are married.

And honestly it's not just when Ferb is around that my body acts up. Girls can say puberty is bad for them all they want, but until they've gotten a boner in the middle of their English presentation I don't want to hear it.

And it's in this moment, while I'm thinking of boners, that Ferb walks into our shared room with nothing but his boxers on. It's typical Ferb really. I mean Candace is away at college and our parents rarely come up to the second floor, and it's not like I haven't seen him in boxers before.

Of course that was before puberty. Now seeing him in boxers tends to send a tingle down to Phineas Jr.

"Hey." He says, before using the towel on his shoulder to dry his wet hair.

I watch in fascination. This same scene plays out most days. Ferb comes in from his shower, finishes drying his hair, and then finishes getting dressed. Of course ever since I turned fifteen I've created a fantasy in my head of how this event turns out.

See in my version, Ferb comes into the room with just a towel on. And once he's inside, he shuts and locks the door before taking his towel off and drying his hair, all while staring me in the eyes as I watch. Then he usually says something to the extent of 'Like what you see?' in his thick English accent before coming over to my bed, lying on top of me, and kissing me senseless.

As you can tell my body has taken over control of my mind, so now even my mind ignores that we're brothers. It's like my mind says 'You're just stepbrothers, no biggy.' Yeah, because we haven't grown up together or anything.

I watch as Ferb turns to grab clothes out of his top drawer. The muscles on his back seem to beckon to me to come over and touch them. And he's got these broad shoulders that are so perfect, that I just want to kiss them. All of him is so strong, and I can't help but want him.

The things I want to do to him are sick. The things I want him to do to me are even worse.

I try to calm myself and look away, but Phineas Jr. has already deemed it time to play. I silently curse to myself as I try to control my body, which has been an impossible feat since I turned fifteen. Are you seeing this pattern of age fifteen being terrible?

"You're being quiet." Ferb announces as he pulls a t-shirt over his head.

"Yeah, just thinking." I tell him, only to have my voice crack in the middle, because as if all my other problems weren't enough to deal with, my voice is changing.

"What about?" Ferb asks as he slides into a pair of skinny jeans. I can't even keep from looking at him.

"Umm, the dance coming up." There is a dance coming up, and I do need to talk to him about it.

"Okay," he says waiting for me to continue, as he moves to put his towel in our dirty clothes hamper.

"During student council they convinced Mrs. Crenshaw to get a band instead of a DJ; they wanted to know if we'd do it."

"Okay, figure 'Jeet and Buford will do it, Izzy if she wants." Ferb says nodding as he starts moving toward his bed.

"Sounds good." I say, still willing my erection to go down before Ferb notices.

It's only a few seconds later that Ferb sits down on his bed and turns to look at me for the first time since entering our room.

"You have a boner," he says as though I haven't noticed, which is somewhat ridiculous paired with the look on his face, that clearly states 'I just gave you a boner, didn't I?'

"I had one during my English project last week." I declare as though it will somehow make this situation less awkward, and convince him that it's just a coincidence that I got a boner while he was in our room half naked.

"What was your project?" He asks, as though he is actually interested in what type of project led to a hard-on.

"Book report." I say, trying to be brief, while still trying to think of anything that can defuse an erection caused by Ferb.

"What book?" He asks, and I really wish he hadn't.

"…Moby Dick." Park of me is surprised he's not laughing, because believe me everyone in my English class did.

"That's what Vanessa used to call my dick." And with that he picks up the book from his nightstand 'The Prince' by Niccolo Machiavelli, and begins reading, completely ignoring the growing blush on my face.

"Being fifteen sucks."

Ferb just chuckles.


	2. Backne

**Fifteen: Backne**

**Authors Note: Okay, I totally didn't plan on making this a series, but the more I thought of poor frustrated Phineas, the more I loved the idea. I really enjoy writing this side of Phineas. I love getting to explore things that irritate him, and insecurities that puberty causes him. This is just gonna be a series of one-shots about Phineas's struggles at age 15. There won't be any scheduled updating for the pure sake that I couldn't justify starting this if I was promising that. So just keep your eyes open. Also, as of now I have a couple of ideas for future chapters, but feel free to send in any ideas you'd like to see. Once I run out of ideas I will likely write a final chapter that ends the series, but until then the story will always be marked as complete because all of these could technecely stand on their own. As always, let me know what you guys think!**

* * *

><p>"Aahhh!" I huff as I try to make my arm bend lower onto my back.<p>

At the moment I am having another problem with puberty.

You know how some people get acne on their face? Well, I have it on my back, like, everywhere. I'm talking everywhere from my shoulders to my mid-back is covered with huge red pimples. It's kinda gross.

At the moment I'm standing in front of the mirror in my room with one of Candace's acne cleaning pads in my hand, and I am _trying _to cover my back in the stuff, but there's a spot that I can't quite reach. It's driving me crazy!

You see, I get why people hate getting acne on their faces, I really do. I mean it has to suck. You know, everyone can see it, it's hard not to pop them when they stare you down in the mirror, yadda, yadda, yadda.

But I would argue that having it on your back is worse. First off, there's the pressure that is placed on you _because_ people can't see it. It's like I have to make sure the collar on my shirt covers my acne, because it _has _to stay a secret. At least when people have it on their faces there's no pressure to hide it. I mean what's a guy gonna do, wear a ski mask?

Steal his mom's makeup and then try to figure out how to use it correctly? Note to all guys: It can't be done; I don't know how girls use makeup to cover anything. Seriously it just makes a giant pink-brown blob on your skin! How is that any less noticeable? How do you make that stuff work? Is there a magic word that only girls are allowed to know?

Ahem… Not that I've ever stolen or used my mom's makeup.

Anyway…

Reason number two that back acne is worse, it's not upfront. Like I said before, when you have acne on your face, everyone knows. But when you have back acne people don't know. Now imagine going to a pool party. Seriously, I know that when I take my shirt off and reveal all of this acne people are going to stare out of pure shock.

Like, 'oh Phineas has acne? Eww, I didn't know that. He's way less attractive now' and so on. All because no one knew.

You see people get used to seeing face acne, so in time people are just so used to it that it's like they don't even notice anymore.

With acne on your back it's like a shock every time for the pure sake that people don't see it every day and get used to it. I mean, I can't exactly go to school with my shirt off. Not that I would, because you know, I have acne.

And finally reason number three, I can't reach all of my back. I bet no one else can either. So instead of using acne wash to clear up my skin, I'm stuck hunched over like an idiot, trying to reach all of my back. People with acne on their faces do not have this problem!

"Ugg! Why can't I reach?" I scream again as I try to bend in a way that will allow me to reach the one dry spot on my back.

As if on cue I hear a voice coming from the door.

"Am I interrupting something?" Ferb asks in a confused, yet slightly amused voice.

"Ahh!" I scream before falling on the floor in surprise.

"You alright?" Ferb asks walking over to me.

I quickly stand up before he reaches me.

"When did you get in here? Seriously, I didn't even hear the door open! What are you, a ninja or something?" I spout out embarrassed. I can't believe I fell. I think being fifteen also makes me less coordinated.

"What are you doing?" He asks with a raised brow.

It is then that I take a moment to calm myself and think about what he saw when he walked into the room. Me, bent over with my arm stretched across my back. Totally normal.

I hope my butt looked good.

"I'm, uh, trying to put this acne stuff on my back, but I can't reach," I say embarrassed, while I rub my left hand on the backmy neck. "I have pimples on my back." I add on the end, before realizing just how stupid I sound.

He snorts before giving me a look that says 'That would explain the need to put 'acne stuff' on your back.'

I smile embarrassedly, but he spares me by not actually saying his thought out loud.

He walks over and grabs the container of acne pads on my dresser and takes one before walking behind me and starting to wipe it over my back.

"There are worse things than having backne," he says as though he can feel my insecurities. Backne is a really good name for back pimples on the other hand.

"Psh- As if you know anything about acne." I throw over my shoulder.

"I had a bit on my face," he argues as he wipes a second time over my 'backne' as I will now be calling it.

"If by a bit you mean two pimples on your face when you were thirteen, then I agree." I think Ferb managed to avoid every bad aspect of puberty. Maybe that's why I'm getting all of the bad stuff, you know, to balance out the amount of suffering in the house.

"It was still on my face," he says, his breath tickling my left ear.

"It's better to have it on your face. At least then people don't start staring at you when you take your shirt off." I say trying to keep the insecurity out of my voice and failing.

Ferb finishes wiping and then leans a little closer to me, placing his lips mere centimeters from my ear. "Believe me Phin, that's not what people will be staring at when you take your shirt off," he says as he runs his hand over my chest from behind, and I swear to God I have to hold back a moan.

I want to lean into his touch, but just as soon as he's touching me, he's gone, walking away to throw away his used acne pad and the one I had dropped on the floor earlier.

I sigh, now completely frustrated, half naked, and just a tiny shred of dignity away from jumping Ferb where he stands.

Ferb walks behind me and grabs both the container of pads and the lid before he screws the top back on.

"By the way, Candace called mum yesterday wondering where these disappeared to," Ferb says, completely unfazed by the look of wanting on my face. "You should probably give these back and let mum know you 'have pimples on your back'." Ferb says grinning and adding finger quotes.

"Shut-up." I say with my face flushed.

"Dinner's in ten," he says before handing me the container and walking out of the room.

I walk over to my bed and grab my discarded shirt, and start pulling it over my head before I mumble angrily to myself. "I hate being fifteen."


	3. Hunger

**Fifteen: Hungry**

**Authors Note: Yay update! I decided to finally update since I'm in a writing mood. This one is a little short, but it's one of the first ideas I had for this series. If you guys have any ideas, let me know and I might use them. Remember when I'm out of ideas I'm going to end this. Of course at the moment I have at least 5 more, so no rush, lol. Anyway, let me know what you guys think!**

* * *

><p>Sometimes I feel like puberty will never stop giving me things to complain about. It all started this morning…<p>

Ferb and I had woken up at our usual time of 6:30 a.m. I had been the one to turn off our alarm, although I did so with a yawn. I swear being fifteen made me incapable of being a morning person.

Of course Ferb had slept in only his boxers, and had looked gorgeous as he walked around the room. I swear he had taken his sweat time to put a shirt on, walking around our room allowing me to see every ripple that his muscles make as he walks. One day I will jump him. It'll be his own fault.

Once Ferb had decided to put some clothes on, not bothering to leave the room to do so might I add, we walked downstairs with the intention of eating breakfast, but upon arriving downstairs we saw our mother looking at the pipes under the sink.

"What's wrong with the sink mom?" I asked raising an eyebrow.

"I wish I knew," Mom says standing up and scratching her head before her face suddenly dawns a look of realization, "I haven't made you boy's breakfast yet."

"Don't worry about it mom, we'll have cereal. Besides, you're gonna be late for your antique thing." I told her.

"You're right; I need to go meet your father," Mom said before walking over and kissing both our cheeks, because we're brothers, and she's our mother, and I totally don't want to do anything sexual with my brother. "Bye boys, have a good day at school."

"Bye mom." We both said at the same time.

Mom then grabbed her purse and walked out the door.

"Fix the sink?" I asked.

"Phineas, I know what we're going to do today." Ferb said, making a joke of my catch phrase.

"Where's Perry?" I asked rolling my eyes.

We both shared a laugh before we went to work on the sink. Once we finished the sink we moved on to the dish washer, and then to the garbage disposal, doing repairs and improving them. When we finished, we realized that we were running late for school. We ran to grab our backpacks and then hopped into Ferb's car and sped to school.

Now looking back it probably doesn't sound so bad, but as I'm sitting here at lunch, practically inhaling my food, it sucks pretty badly.

You see ever since I hit fifteen and started going through puberty I've been hungry all the time. I remember Ferb going through this part of puberty; it's one of the only parts I remember him facing.

"Slow down Dinner bell, you're gonna choke." Buford says staring at me.

"I can't help it; I missed breakfast and I'm starving." I tell him, barely looking away from my hamburger that's only one bite from being finished.

"Why did you miss breakfast?" Baljeet asks, looking at me as though I'm being disgusting. In his defense I probably am.

"Ferb and I got caught up with home repair this morning," I tell them as I eat the last of my French fries. "I'm still hungry."

"You can have my jello." Baljeet offers handing it to me.

"Thanks." I say grabbing it.

"I wanted that." Buford tells me and Baljeet with a glare.

"Too bad." I say opening it and taking a bite.

"Maybe you should have spent more time eating this morning instead of watching Ferb bent over the pipes." Buford says, making my face go scarlet.

"I was fixing stuff!" I hiss, but I can tell that my face remains red.

"I bet." Buford says rolling his eyes.

Somehow Buford is the only one who realizes that I may have more than brotherly feelings for Ferb. He had guessed all on his own too. Baljeet still believes that it is just a joke that Buford likes to make, while Isabella knows nothing about it.

I glare at him lightly as I finish Baljeet's jello cup. Sadly I'm still a little hungry, and I'm embarrassed to top it off.

I can't say it enough. I. Hate. Being. Fifteen.

"Well, speak of the devil." Buford says looking behind me.

I turn around to see Ferb walking toward me, apple in tow.

"I figured you'd be hungry since I made us miss breakfast." Ferb offers as he hands me a big, bright red apple.

"I wanted to do repairs too." I say, trying not to blush as I remember Buford's earlier comment.

Ferb just grins and shrugs. "Either way, I knew you'd be starving," he says, and a second later my stomach growls, proving his point.

I blush at that. He smirks and holds back a laugh. "You know me well." I say.

"I do," he agrees, giving me a smile that makes me melt.

"Where'd you get an apple anyway?" Baljeet asks from behind me.

"We're drawing fruit in art class. Hopefully she didn't notice that I took an apple to the bathroom." Ferb says with a smirk.

Baljeet and I laugh a little, while Buford looks slightly happier.

"Well, I should get back before she wonders where I went," Ferb says referring to his art teacher, "Eat up; you're a growing boy after all." Ferb says ruffling his hand in my hair before turning to leave.

I turn back toward Buford and Baljeet, only to see Buford smirking.

"Better not tell Isabella about this." Buford says with a smirk.

"Shut up." I mutter before taking a bite of my apple.

It's delicious.


	4. Wanting

**Fifteen: Wanting**

**Authors Note: I've finally got another one for you guys! It's not the one I thought I'd be writing, but I think it turned out okay. Let me know what you think!**

* * *

><p>Sometimes I think the worst part of being fifteen is my inability to control my thoughts.<p>

Back when I was younger and I started to have sexual thoughts I was able to stop them. I could think of something else, or just push them away and I'd be fine.

Of course that's not how my thoughts work at fifteen.

At the moment I'm sitting on my bed Indian style trying to concentrate on my math homework, something that I usually find simple, but I find myself unable to do so.

And why is that? Well of course my seventeen year old step-brother, Ferb Fletcher.

Ferb is lying down on his bed reading a book, stretched out like an Adonis, his shirtless chest on full display because for some reason Ferb has decided that shirts are useless pieces of clothing. Seriously, it's not even hot in our room, like, at all.

I should be doing my math homework, but instead I keep sneaking looks at him, trying to ignore the feelings that I get when I do so.

He really is gorgeous. His green eyes are scanning across the page in his book, his face looking placid as he flips to the next page. His hair is hanging just above his brow, looking slightly messy in an attractive way that Ferb always achieves without putting in any effort.

His nose is hooked in a way that makes it almost look like it's been broken a few times in the past, although I know that it never has been. It fits well on long face and makes him look tough.

I sneak another glance over at him and see his tongue dart out to lick his lips. I almost groan as I look down at my math book.

Ferb's lips are slightly thin, but plenty full. His tongue is long, able to touch his nose, and I have an intense desire to rub my tongue against his.

I pull my eyes away from him, knowing that if I don't I'm going to have a bigger problem than unfinished math. And that problem would be in my pants, if you know what I mean.

I look down at my math homework. I'm on problem four of twenty. I've been doing this for almost twenty minutes. I should have been down at least ten minutes ago.

I get half way through problem four before I hear Ferb shift and have to look over at him.

His chest is perfect. He could model if he wanted to. He could model for Hollister no problem. He'd never put on the clothes due to his personal opinion that anyone who pays thirty-five dollars for a T-shirt is mentally retarded, but since their models never wear clothes in their adds anyway, it'd be perfect.

His chest has a perfect set of 6-pack abs that makes me want to do inappropriate things. Actually his chest has caused me to do inappropriate things, but what I do in the shower is really no one's business but my own.

He is just so perfectly muscled. He's strong, but he doesn't look like he's on steroids. If I could just let my hands slide over-

No!

Math homework! I am doing math homework! I am not having sexual thoughts about my step-brother. I am not imagining running my hands over my gorgeous step-brothers abs, and then running my tongue down the crevices in hopes of hearing my name come out of his mouth, breathily and husky.

Nope, because I'm doing math.

I'm about to actually work on my math when he shifts again and his pants drop a little lower on his hips. The band of his boxers is on display, along with the faint line of hair that runs down toward his groin. The sight makes me twitch.

His slight 'V' shape is clearly visible, and all I can think is that I wish his boxers would fall down with his jeans.

I want to touch him. I want to beg him to let me touch him. I want to run my hands all over his body and press my body against his, and do anything to get closer to him.

I just want him so bad.

I want him in everything that he is and everything that he ever will be.

And I want to have crazy animalist sex that-

"Are you having trouble?" Ferb asks before I can finish my thought.

"Uh-" I struggle to form an answer as I pull my eyes away from his boxers and toward his face.

Ferb doesn't wait for my answer. He stands up, closing his book and laying it on his bed, before he walks over to my bed and sits down behind me.

His naked chest is lightly touching my shoulder as he looks down over my math.

"You're having trouble with this?" He asks with a low voice, followed by a chuckle. The hot air sweeps across my ear and I have to exercise all of my self control to not turn around and throw myself at him.

"No- I just…" I don't have to form an excuse because Ferb's hand is grabbing the pencil out of my left hand with his right. When his hand touches mine I feel a spark throughout my whole body.

His arm is wrapped around me and he moves closer as he begins to write equations on my paper. His chest is pressed into my shoulder with his face just above my ear. He is sitting with his left leg stretched out beside me, while his right leg is folded up and pressed flush against my back.

As he writes, he mumbles the equations out loud, letting more of his breath ghost over my ear.

"Do you have anything you want me to do?" I ask, trying to distract myself so that I don't lean into him.

"No," he says simply as he continues to write.

It's not unusual for us to do one another's homework. We've both been defying physics since grade school, so high school homework is a breeze. We occasionally trade homework if we'd rather do a different subject, and sometimes we take turns doing homework each week. Either way, him doing my work is nothing new.

"Why couldn't you concentrate?" Ferb asks as he begins the last problem, seeming to move closer to me as he does so.

"I don't know, just one of those days I guess." I say, straining to not let my voice crack as it has a tendency to do now that I'm fifteen.

Ferb nods before he sets to pencil down and begins smearing the pencil marks a little to the right to mimic my left handed writing. Ferb is a master at my hand writing.

I bet he'd be a master at a bunch of other things involving me.

"Want to watch a movie?" He asks.

"Sure." I say, eager to do whatever he wants me to.

He stands up and stretches before pointing out of the room, telling me that he's going to go get popcorn and probably sodas.

I nod before standing up and going to pick a movie from our stack.

I try to ignore all of the thoughts running through my head. He was so close to me and to say I've been fighting my body about it would be an understatement.

I pull Space Adventure out of the stack and put it in out DVD player before I got to sit back down on my bed.

I try to calm myself down while I wait for Ferb, but thoughts of him keep popping into my head.

When he walks in the door he's carrying two cans of Coke and a bowl of popcorn. He sits down beside me, our shoulders bumping as he sets the popcorn down on my lap before offering me a Coke.

I take it, our hands brushing for the second time today, and again I feel a spark shoot through my body.

Ferb grabs the remote off of the side table and starts the movie. I try to watch it, but again I turn to Ferb. He's drinking his Coke and his Adam's apple is bobbing up and down at each drink. Every move he makes is driving me crazy

He reaches his hand deep into the bowl and takes a handful before shoving it in his mouth in a way that only Ferb could do attractively.

Once the popcorn is out of his hand he begins to lick the butter slowly off of his hand, finger my finger.

"You can never have too much butter," he says giving me a sexy grin.

It's that moment that seals my fate of having to use the popcorn bowl to hide the problem in my pants for the rest of the movie. Because honestly, I couldn't look away even if I wanted to, and even if I could, there's no way the thoughts I'm having would get any cleaner.

No, I definitely lost control of my brain when I turned fifteen.


	5. Taller

**Fifteen: Taller**

**Authors note: I can't believe how popular this series has become! Thank you guys so much for the reviews, favorites, and alerts! Please continue to let me know what you guys think!**

* * *

><p>"You're getting a new jacket." Mom says, her tone telling me that she's losing patience with me fast.<p>

"Why?" I ask, once again invoking a glare from my mom.

Normally mom and I don't fight. Seriously. I know a lot of kids fight with their parents, but for the most part I just don't. I think my parents are usually right and I usually do what they tell me to without much thought. But even I have things I have to fight for.

"Phineas," Mom started, her voice drawing out the syllables in my name, "It's old, it has holes in it, and you've outgrown it."

"It still fits." I argue.

If there is one thing I hate it's getting new clothes. When I was younger it was a breeze. Ferb and I would walk into the mall and pick out the same clothes in larger sizes and call it a day. Of course now that isn't a choice and it really grinds my gears.

"No, it doesn't," she says exasperatedly. "It's short and it doesn't even go down to your wrists. I'm throwing it out, and you're getting a new one."

We're currently arguing in the kitchen. Mom is trying to get things ready to make dinner, but she got caught up in yelling at me about the jacket that I have on for the first time since last year.

Ferb is currently sitting at the kitchen table listening to us argue about my jacket. We've probably been going back and forth on the issue for ten minutes. He looks more amused than anything.

"If I'm happy with it then why does it matter?" I ask throwing my arms up.

"Because I don't want everyone to think you have a mother who doesn't care about you enough to buy you a fitting jacket," she replies as she begins preheating the oven.

"So what you're saying is that I have to be unhappy so you can look good to the neighbors?" I ask. I can see Ferb cover a snicker at the table.

"Do not mouth off to me young man," she says looking ready to really lose her temper.

At this point I watch Ferb get out of his chair and head out of the room. He is wearing a brown leather jacket that he got recently. Ferb doesn't have the same hatred of shopping that I do. Of course if I looked like Ferb I wouldn't hate shopping either. No, I'd be looking in that dressing room mirror _all_ day. But I may not bother putting the clothes on, no I'd just take them off-

"Are you even listening to me?" Mom asks me in an annoyed tone. Apparently she's been talking to me. I was more concentrated on the god walking out of our kitchen.

I am about to make up an excuse for not listening, one that doesn't involve checking out my brother's perfect ass, when Ferb walks back into the kitchen to save me.

He throws a black jacket at me that I recognize immediately as the one he wore when he was fourteen.

"What is that?" Mom asks looking at the jacket in my arms.

I pull off my orange fleece jacket and replace it with the leather jacket Ferb gave me. The fit is near perfect and I swear it still smells like Ferb.

"I remember telling you to get rid of that." Mom says turning to Ferb.

He shrugs in reply. "I thought he'd want it."

I do want it as a matter of fact and not just because it was Ferb's. I mean, that helps, but that's not the only reason. I actually just think it's a cool jacket. It's got padding on the elbows and just has a certain edge to it.

"I'll make the trade." I say holding out my orange jacket to mom to show that I'm serious.

Mom sighs as she inspects the jacket I'm wearing. "It looks a little beat up."

"That's the only way to wear leather." Ferb supplies.

Mom looks like she wants to say no, but instead she sighs. "Fine," I smile as she gives in. "But you're going to be an angel the next time we go clothes shopping."

We both know that I probably won't be, but just the same I respond, "Sure!"

Mom shakes her head knowingly as Ferb and I turn to leave the house, just as we had been planning to do before the jacket fight began.

We get outside before I speak again.

"Thanks Ferb." I say as I bump his shoulder a bit.

"No problem," he says easily. "I always thought it'd look good on you."

I almost blush at the comment. "So I'm pulling off this whole leather jacket thing?" I ask in a joking matter.

"You're pulling off that and the whole fifteen thing. Actually you're pulling that off quite well," he says as we walk down the sidewalk.

"What do you mean?" I ask. This time I do blush.

He's about to answer when Isabella and Baljeet begin calling to us from the end of the street and coming toward us, along with a grumpy looking Buford.

Ferb lets out a small chuckle before looking at me. "Fifteen looks good on you."

He doesn't get a chance to say more before our friends are surrounding us.

If his reply didn't make me so giddy I'd kill them for interrupting us.

I still might.


	6. Girls

**Fifteen: Girls**

**Authors Note: Hey guys! I should be updating one of my other stories, but I was really in the mood to write from poor Phineas' pov, of course in this one Isabella's getting the sort end of the stick :( Poor girl. Anyway, let me know what you guys think! Also, thanks for all the support for this series!**

* * *

><p>I realize that ever since I turned fifteen things have been all about me. I've been concentrated on my problems, my issues, and my incest-like crush. I've put all of my focus on the problems I've been having since I turned fifteen.<p>

And it's because of that I managed to ignore that there are a lot of people around me in that same boat. Some of them have been in it a lot longer than me. I'm talking of course about girls.

You see, as you probably know, girls mature faster than boys. It's a scientific fact. Seriously, look it up. And yet, while they start into puberty sooner, they don't seem to be done any sooner than boys.

You see, while my body is changing, so is some girls. While I struggle with puberty, so is some girl. While my voice is changing, some girl is getting her period. In this case some girl is Isabella.

Not that I'm saying she just got her period. I have no idea about that. For all I know she hasn't had one yet. Or maybe she had one really early. I don't really know.

I don't know why I'm stuck on periods; it has nothing to do with my point.

My point is that Isabella is dealing with puberty too, and has been for longer than me seeing as she's a girl and I think I'm hitting puberty later than most of the guys I know.

Anyway…

I should have realized a long time ago that Isabella was suffering too. I should have realized that just as my hormones are out of whack, so are hers. I should have known something was bound to happen.

I myself am at the point where I want to tie down Ferb and do unspeakable things whether he consents or not, and I'm his brother.

I should have known that puberty had her hormones going crazy. I should have known that when I didn't make a move, she would.

It shouldn't have surprised me so much when she asked me out. I should have had a game plan ready for when it happened. And for the record, that game plan shouldn't have been me stuttering out "S-sure!" as my voice broke with nervousness.

As you can guess that's exactly what I did do.

I think puberty may be killing brain cells.

"What am I going to do!" I screech as I flop down beside Ferb on the couch.

Isabella asked me out at school today, so I already briefed Ferb about it on the way home. I just got done taking a shower, hoping my nerves would be calmed, but of course I just spent the time making the connection that both boys and girls go through puberty.

He raises an eyebrow at me as he smirks. "I suppose you're going to go out with Isabella."

"You know I don't feel that way about her!" I say turning to face him, my voice desperate.

"You know a question implies that you can respond-"

"I know, I should have told her no." I say letting out a sigh.

He pats my back, as he glances toward the TV. He had been watching some car show while I was in the shower. Apparently the show is more important than my meltdown.

"Ferb, seriously. I need, like, guidance or something." I say as I wave my arms a little.

He looks at me with a raised brow and a look that says _'It's just a girl'_.

"Come on, I've never been on a date before. Plus I don't want to go out with her. Can't I just tell her I'm sick?" I ask, wondering if that would work.

"Yeah, but then you'll just reschedule. And you could keep that up until she gets the hint, but you'll look like a jackarse by then," he says casually.

"So I can't get out of this date?" I ask to clarify.

"Not without telling the truth," he offers, but his eyes flick back to the television.

"You're not helping." I huff, ready to get up. This date is bad enough without having to deal with Ferb's lack of attention.

"Just go on the date. She'll either realize there's no chemistry, or she'll ask you to go out again. Simple as that. Now watch this, I want to install one of those in the car," he says pointing to TV where men are installing a pop out bed in the back seat.

"That would be cool for when we go road tripping." I say instantly being pulled into the show.

"Mm, among other things." And now I can't stop thinking about what we could do in the back of a car.

* * *

><p>"It was horrible." I say as I shut the door behind me. I just got back from my date with Isabella.<p>

Ferb's eyebrow raise tells me that he wants more detail. At the moment he's lying on the couch, book in hand.

I walk around to the couch and sit down at the end of it, Ferb moving his legs just in time to make room for me.

Ferb gives me a look that says to continue.

"She- well- it's just that- It started out okay." I say instead. And it had.

Other than Ferb, Isabella is my best friend. She's smart, funny, and just great to be around. She's a great listener, but she's got a lot of spunk. She's basically the perfect girl, which would be great if I was into that sort of thing, but I'm not.

I much prefer the muscled body of my gorgeous step-brother to hers.

But just the same Isabella's great. We started our date by having dinner together. I've seen movies where two friends go on a date and it gets terribly awkward, but it wasn't. Isabella was quick to make conversation and soon I felt like we were just hanging out.

Of course now that I know what happened next I feel like I was feeling a false sense of security.

After dinner we went on a walk through the park. At first it was fine. We were talking about school and other trivial things when she grabbed my hand. I wasn't really sure how to voice my complaint so I just didn't. Instead I ended up making a strange grunt-like noise that I guess she chalked up to nervousness. Instead of letting go she laughed as she blushed. The action caused me to blush myself.

We walk like that for awhile, her getting closer to my body the whole time. Soon our walk through the park became a walk home and I started to feel a little easier.

My hand had been sweating the whole time we were together and I was glad when we made it to her house and she finally let go. And then a few seconds later I wasn't.

"And then?" Ferb asks wondering if I'm going to continue my story.

"She held my hand," I say rubbing my neck as he gives me an amused look. "And then she- she tried to kiss me."

I blush as I tell him all of this, but he just stares at me, looking amused.

"It's not funny," I tell him rubbing my neck again. "I yelled that I only saw her as a friend when she leaned in. I literally yelled in her face that I only saw her as a friend."

Ferb lets out a small laugh.

"I was so embarrassed, and she looked at me like I was crazy. Then after the shock wore off she just looked so sad. I mean, she said she was fine, but I could tell she was upset. I feel like a jerk for not telling her I didn't like her that way to begin with."

Ferb finally stops looking amused as he sits up all the way and puts his arm around me.

"It'll all blow over," he says reassuringly. "You're the kindest person I know. She knows you didn't mean to hurt her, she just needs time to accept that you don't feel the same way about her that she feels about you."

"How long do you think that'll take?" I ask letting out a sigh. I feel horrible. Isabella is great. If I were straight I'm sure I'd be just as interested in her as she is in me.

"Only time will tell, but I'm sure it won't be forever." Ferb says as he gives my shoulder a squeeze.

"Okay." I say defeated.

"I'll go get some paper and we can make some blue prints," Ferb says, knowing for a fact that it will cheer me up.

Before he gets up from the couch he reaches over and kisses the top of my head. "It'll be fine Phin."

I'm glad he's walking away because I can tell my cheeks are on fire. I still feel bad for Isabella, but I can't wait to spend the rest of the night with Ferb.

I guess puberty just decided to pick on someone else tonight.


	7. Facial Hair

**Fifteen: Facial Hair**

**Authors Note: I'm back! Just a reminder this story has been listed as completed because all of these could technecly stand alone as one-shots. However, I've decided to change this story to in-progress just to help with the confusion. As for the reviews, thank you guys! 110 reviews for 6 chapters is _crazy_! Please keep telling me what you think!**

* * *

><p>I'm sitting on the closed toilet lid in the bathroom watching my god of a step-brother shave.<p>

We decided we are going to see a movie today, but Ferb told me to let him shave first since his five o'clock shadow was turning into a full on beard. And I of course followed him into the bathroom because I'm so freakin' enamored by him that the thought of not following him around like a lost puppy is painful.

I can't help watching him closely.

To a normal person he may just be shaving his face, but to me, a puberty suffering fifteen year old boy, it is a very erotic action.

I can't take my eyes away from his bobbing Adam's apple. I can see it move every time he takes a swallow and for some reason that really gets to me.

I don't know what it is, but something about it just gets my blood flowing. And from previous experiences since I've turned fifteen, I've learned that my blood tends to go low when it really starts to flow.

As his razor clears another strip of white off of Ferb's neck, I concentrate more on his throat. His skin is so white and gorgeous, and I just want to bite it and-

"Hey, Phin?"Ferb calls my name suddenly.

"Huh? What?" I ask, focusing my eyes on his and trying to look like I wasn't just imaging sucking on his throat.

"Did dad show you how to shave yet?" Ferb asks as he rinses his razor. For all the attention I was paying I didn't realize that he'd finished.

"Oh, no. Not yet. Why, do I look like I need to?" I ask jokingly. I've only gotten a few uneven hairs on my chin so far. I've just been letting them go.

I wonder if Ferb likes beards. Or guys for that matter. They seem to go together.

He smirks in a way that tells me he gets my joke and also makes my heart feel like it's leaping into my throat.

"Do you want me to show you?" Ferb asks.

"Sure." I answer, trying not to sound eager. I think if Ferb asked me to jump off a cliff I would. And I'd do it enthusiastically too.

I walk over to him and he moves so that I can be in front of the mirror.

"You should either wash your face with hot water first, or shower. And you obviously know how to use shaving cream," he says pointing to the can he has out on the sink.

I nod because I'm not an idiot.

He then nods toward the sink so I turn on the hot water. I guess I'm getting rid of my chin hairs, but I can't say that I really care.

Once I've washed my face I spray the shaving cream into my hand and then rub it on my face. I probably have more than I need, but oh well.

Ferb then grabs the razor and turns it backwards before he takes a step toward me so that we are so close that I can feel his body heat.

"You want to use this much pressure," he tells me before he runs the back of his blade over my face.

I'm holding my breath trying to convince myself that it's not a good idea to knock away the razor so that I can kiss him. He's so close to me and I can smell the sent from the aftershave he put on while I was washing my face.

I keep telling myself I'm not going to jump him, but everyday he does something that makes me have to fight to keep control of my body.

He runs the back of the razor a second time down my face, an area where he knows I don't have any hair.

"You see?" He asks.

I'm scared to talk because I think I may just let out a moan instead of words, but I force myself anyway.

"Y-Yeah." I curse my stutter, but he just looks on at me as though I didn't.

"You try on your chin." Ferb tells me as he puts the razor in my hand, the spark I feel when our hands touch almost making me drop it.

I try to hold my hand steady as I turn to look in the mirror instead of looking at him. I try to concentrate on my own face in the mirror instead of his in the background as I run the razor against my skin.

The cream comes off easily and soon I'm shaving like a pro.

"I don't get why T.V. shows and movies make this look so dangerous. It's really- Ah!" I yell a little as I cut myself.

Ferb takes the razor from me as he gives me a look that says '_That's why_'.

"I guess I spoke too soon." I say as I look at the cut in the mirror.

"Happens." Is the only reply I get from Ferb before he's holding a wet rag to my chin, while standing much closer than he needs to be.

He wipes the cream off of my face as I stare up at his face. I'm glad he's not looking at my eyes because I can imagine my pupils are blown wide with need.

I close my eyes and breathe in the smell of his aftershave, so much different than the typical smell of motor oil that always clings to him. God, I love both scents. Or maybe I just love him.

I should not be in love with my step-brother.

I feel the rag leave my skin and force myself to open my eyes before he realizes what effects he has on me.

"You got all the hair off at least." Ferb says as he runs his thumb over my chin only to pull it back with blood on it.

I swear to God that I let a noise out of the back of my throat, but he either doesn't hear it or pretends he doesn't.

"It'll stop soon," he says before putting his blood covered thumb in his mouth. If he didn't turn away from me the second he did it I would have been on him.

From the door he gives me a look that asks '_Are we going, then?_'.

I take a deep breath, remind myself that we're practically related, and follow him.

I swear I'd let him slit my throat if he'd get that close to me again.


	8. Voice

**Fifteen: Voice**

**Authors Note: Finally there's another part to this! I hope you guys like this; let me know!**

* * *

><p>There have been so many bad moments for me ever since I've turned fifteen. There have been times where I've second guessed myself, where my confidence has been shaken, and oh so many times where my body has worked against me. But tonight? Tonight takes the cake.<p>

All I was trying to do was sing a song at a school dance. It's something that I've done a hundred times. Something that I've done a hundred times _flawlessly_.

But of course that was before I turned fifteen. That was before my voice started to change and crack.

I thought I'd be okay as long as I picked songs where my voice didn't have to go too high. I figured that my voice hadn't been breaking much lately, so I'd get through it without a problem.

I was so wrong.

I was on stage in front of the microphone with Ferb on lead guitar, Baljeet on bass, and Buford on drums. Everyone in the audience was pumped, ready for us to start playing. And for the first half of our song so was I.

And then it happened. I started into the second verse and my voice cracked. I tried to ignore it, play it off like it was nothing. But then it happened again. And again. And by the chorus it was obvious that it wasn't going to stop.

People in the crowd were laughing, and mind you, this is a school dance. As in all of the people I go to school with were laughing at me.

I struggled to make it through the chorus before I said we were going on intermission, and then I left the stage in a hurry.

And that, my friends, is why I'm sitting beside the water fountain in the hallway just outside the gym, where our school dance is being held.

I haven't been here long, just a minute or so. Just long enough for me start blaming this on puberty.

I hear the sound of the gym door opening and push my back closer to the wall, hoping that the water fountain blocks the view of me.

A second later Ferb is standing in front of me, looking down at me.

"Hey, Ferb." I greet forcing a smile.

He doesn't say anything, but instead moves to sit down beside me. I can feel his leg up against mine and for a second I can forget how embarrassed I am in favor of loving the feeling of his body against mine. God, why can't he always be this close to me?

"It wasn't that bad." Ferb says sounding sure of himself.

I let out a bitter laugh before I look him in the eye. "It was pretty bad."

"Your voice is just changing; half of the people in the gym have or will go through the exact same thing." Ferb rationalized.

"Yeah, I know. But that doesn't change that it happened to me in front of everyone. Singing is supposed to be my thing," I say sadly.

I hear Ferb chuckle before he wraps his arm around me and pulls my side against his. I blush and have to look down to avoid him seeing.

"Singing is your thing. Along with building, inventing, and anything else that you decide to do in a day," Ferb tells me softly. "Nothing can stop you but you. This is just a setback."

I finally manage to look over at Ferb, figuring that my blushing has calmed down enough to do so. He's looking at me seriously and for a minute I let his words sink in and make me feel better.

Knowing that Ferb thinks that highly of me is amazing. It makes the butterflies in my stomach go nuts.

But there's also the fact that he's so close to me. Close enough that I could kiss him. Our sides are flush against one another and it's making my whole body tingle.

God, he's gorgeous. How can anyone look this good? How can anybody be this perfect?

And he's right here, so close I can feel him breathing, and I'm not supposed to throw myself at him? How is that even possible? How have I managed to keep my hands to myself this long?

I'm about to completely throw my self control out the window when the gym door opens.

Ferb and I both look toward the door, only to see two girls leaving the gym in the direction of the bathroom. They look over at us and giggle at me before they continue their walk to the bathroom.

I sigh before Ferb removes his arm from around my shoulder, leaving me feeling cold and frustrated.

"Come on, then," Ferb says as he stands up, extending his hand toward me. "Baljeet wanted to sing tonight anyway. Do you want bass or lead?"

I take his hand and allow him to pull me up, holding his hand a little longer than I need to.

"You can keep lead; I'll play bass," I tell him, trying to sound happy.

Really I'm upset though. I was a few seconds away from kissing Ferb. I was finally going to do it. I was finally going to know what it felt like.

It's probably better that I didn't though. He's my step-brother. I should be happy that those girls walked by.

Of course I really just want to go to the girls' bathroom and scream at them for ruining my chance.

"It wasn't a big deal, Phineas." Ferb tells me as he puts his hand up the door.

"Yeah, I know." I say pretending that the singing thing was still my main reason for being upset.

"Besides," He starts as he opens the gym door. "I'm sure some people thought it was adorable."

It's good that he's already walked through the door because my face is on fire. What are the chances that he was one of those people?

I don't have time to think about it as I hurry after him into the gym. I have a show to finish.

And a hot step-brother to stare at while I do so.


	9. Wood

**Fifteen: Wood**

**Authors Note: Welp, this might be the 'dirtiest' chapter yet. However, based on the reviews I'd say most of you will appreciate that ;) Anyway, I'll stop being a perv now. Also, thank you guys for your feedback! I will never stop being amazed at how popular this series is!**

* * *

><p>Mornings are not always kind to me.<p>

Let me rephrase that, mornings are usually not kind to me.

You see, ever since I turned fifteen I've been waking up with a, uh, small problem.

Well, not _small_. It's a pretty normal sized 'problem'.

Have I made it clear that I'm talking about morning wood? Because I am.

You see some days it's not that big of a deal. I wake up with it, I lie there for a few minutes and it just goes down. No big deal.

Other days are like today, where I wake up with it and the first thing I see is Ferb strutting around like some kind of sex god, all shirtless and gorgeous, and all of a sudden I know there's no way it's going down on its own.

I've already managed to make my way to the shower, sneaking my way past Ferb when his back was turned, although I doubt he would have said a word. Morning wood is one thing that even Ferb gets from time to time, although thinking about that isn't really helping my problem.

With the shower turned on and the hot water cascading down my body I feel comfortable enough to finally start taking care of my problem.

I always use a firm grip, trying to mimic the way I imagine Ferb would touch me. He's a man of action, and I don't think he'd waste any time trying to tease me. No, his hand would be firm and controlled as he used the shower water to ease the friction.

I can't help but let out a moan as I move my hand, and a part of me isn't sure if the friction caused it, or the image in my head of Ferb touching me.

I've long given up trying not to imagine Ferb when I do this. I know it's wrong to use his image for this, but I really can't help it. Maybe if he wore a shirt from time to time these things wouldn't happen. Maybe if God hadn't made Ferb a walking image of human perfection I would be able to control myself. But, alas, my life is cruel and I'm forced to bite my lip and choke back the pleasured noises that come from what is probably a combination of self pleasure and the idea that Ferb wants to touch me.

It's hard to be quiet. It's _so_ hard to be quiet. The faster my hand moves the more please I feel and I can feel myself starting to slide down the shower wall as my legs get weaker as I get closer to finishing.

I let out a high moan and manage to cut it off just as I hear the bathroom door open.

"Oi, Phin, do you know where the blueprint book is?" Ferb asks as he shuts and locks the bathroom door, much in the same way that I should have done when I entered the bathroom.

I have a hard time stopping myself from moaning out loud at the sound of his voice. I have to put my fist in my mouth to stop myself. I hear him move over to the toilet before I'm able to calm down enough to force out an answer.

"I-It should be on the shelf." I tell him, trying to convince myself to take my hand away from my dick. It's a hard thing to do when I'm so close and the object of my affections is _right there_.

"It's not." Ferb says as I hear him begin to pee.

One would think that the fact that he's peeing a few feet away from me would completely turn me off, and maybe if I wasn't fifteen and my body didn't hate me it would, but instead I'm concentrated on the fact that he's _so close_, and his pants are down, and his voice is ringing in my ears. It's like torture.

And my dick is still in my hand, and I'm still worked up, and I just want to finish.

"Check u-under my bed." I tell him, hoping he'll leave to check. Really he knows just as well as I do the places it could be. I don't put it anywhere that he hasn't before. It's like he's just been sent her to torture me.

"Alright," he says and I actually think he's going to leave once he's done washing his hands. But once the water shuts off, I don't hear him open the door and leave.

Instead I hear him jump up to sit on the bathroom counter.

_Fuck._

"Do you want to drive down to the beach today?" Ferb asks, not seeming to realize that he's caught me at a bad time.

And honestly I don't know how much longer he can believe nothing's wrong. I've already been in the shower for ten minutes and I haven't even begun to wash myself.

"Yeah, sounds good." I say as I decide that I have no choice.

I have to finish. My boner's not going down, and Ferb's not going to leave the bathroom until I'm done.

Why does this crap always happen to me?

"We could call the others." Ferb says as I begin to slowly touch myself again.

I hum in reply as begin to pick up speed. I have my fist in my mouth and I'm praying it's enough to keep myself quiet.

"We haven't had a bonfire in awhile," he mentions.

I concentrate on the sound of his voice as I continue to move my hand. Something about being able to hear him while I do this makes it feel so much better. It doesn't matter that the things he's saying aren't related to my thoughts at all. He could be telling me the weather and my body would be going nuts for it.

"Wouldn't mind spending the night on the beach actually, or if it gets cool tonight we could share the back of the car." Ferb says talking about folding down the seats in the back of his car. After folding them down there's just enough space for us to sleep next to each other.

I think about that as I continue to touch myself. Sleeping next to Ferb, so close that we'd be touching and I could hear him breathing.

"We'd keep each other warm," he says nonchalantly, but it's enough to send me over the edge.

I finally come and I have to choke back the sound as my vision goes white. My legs feel shaky, but I manage to hold myself up as I try to control the sounds of my breathing.

"Are you done?" And for a second I swear Ferb is talking about what I'd just done and not the shower.

"Just a-about. Just another minute." I say as I begin to rinse cum off of my hand.

"Alright, I'm going to go check for the book," he says before he leaves the bathroom.

There's a part of me that feels like he couldn't have timed things like that on accident, but I brush it aside. I need to hurry and get out of the shower before I start over thinking it. It wouldn't be the first time Ferb's caused multiple boners.

I still blame being fifteen.


	10. Boys

**Fifteen: Boys**

**Authors Note: Ugh. I don't like how this one turned out. I've been planning to do this chapter for awhile, but it just didn't work out the way I wanted it to. Maybe I just overthought it. Oh well. Let me know what you guys think! Also, suggestions for later chapters are always appreciated!**

* * *

><p>Ever since I turned fifteen my hormones have been out of control. My body is constantly in a state of wanting that I can't seem to quench no matter what I do. And of course having Ferb as a brother doesn't help. I mean, I'm pretty sure every time I think about how attractive he is it's like hitting a dead horse with a stick.<p>

But the thing is, Ferb isn't the only attractive guy around.

Don't get me wrong, Ferb is by far the most attractive guy I've ever seen or even imagined, but he's not the only one who can get me going. It's kind of a problem since I feel guilty every time I look at another guy, not that I should. I mean, it's not like I'm dating my brother. Even if I want to. Even if I r_eally _want to.

Gosh, why does Ferb do these things to me?

Of course at the moment I guess I'm getting a break. At least from Ferb.

Django Brown is another story though.

Django has been out since our freshman year of high school, although he hasn't really dated anyone. He's also been a close friend of Ferb's and mine since we were little kids. He's a really cool guy, and as my raging hormones have helped me notice, he's a really good looking guy. He's no Ferb, but I've had to stop myself from looking at him more than once.

We sit next to each other in our last period art class, and at the moment we're working on sketches. I know there's only about thirty seconds left until the bell rings.

"How do you always get your shading so perfect?" I ask as I admire his sketch of a couple sailing in a boat in the moonlight.

"It's not that hard. You should know; your shading is good." Django says as he scoots his chair closer to look at my sketch.

I'm currently drawing an underwater scene, complete with a scuba diver. However, it's nowhere near as good as Django's. I'm great at drawing blueprints, but when it comes to things like people or landscapes I'm not quite as good. And shading always gets me. You just don't need to shade things on a blueprint.

"My shading is okay, yours is good. Or great. You can take your pick of word choice." I say just as the bell rings.

Django smiles as he turns his body toward mine so that our knees are almost touching.

"I could show you how I do it if you want." Django offers as the other people file out of the room, including our teacher. She never cares if people stay after to work longer.

"Yeah, that'd be cool." I agree as the last person leaves the room.

Django scoots his chair even closer to mine, and this time our knees are touching, which sends a light jolt up my body.

"Just take your thumb and smear it like this," he says as he runs his thumb across the drawing.

Not that I'm paying much attention to the drawing anymore. He's too close to me for me to concentrate. I can feel the heat from his body, and his arm keeps brushing against mine. I know this is the point where I should just thank him for showing me and get up to leave, but I feel glued to my spot.

"So, just like this?" I ask as I mimic his technique as best I can.

"Yeah, just like that," he says, and when I look up our faces are only a few inches apart.

I feel like I've suddenly lost my ability to breathe. It hits me that we're not only inches apart, but we're the only ones in the room, and our bodies are touching, and his eyes are starting to close, and I _need _to move because Ferb-

"Oi, Phin, are you ready to go?" Ferb suddenly asks from the door of the art room, causing Django to snap back before I have the chance to. A pang of guilt runs through me as I turn to look at him, although he doesn't look upset in the slightest. Which makes sense since he has no reason to be.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." I say as I stand up quickly at the same time that Ferb is walking toward us.

Django is still sitting down when Ferb walks over and stands almost between us.

"What were you two working on?" Ferb asks, although it's obvious that he's directing the question at Django.

"Oh, I was just showing Phineas how I shade things." Django replies while looking mostly at ease.

"Oh, I've been wanting to work on my shading," Ferb says as he motions me farther away from Django so that he can sit in my seat. "Mind sharing?"

Django looks surprised, but nods his head while looking slightly less at ease.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Just, uh, smear it like this." Django instructs as he uses the same technique he showed me.

Ferb nods.

"Then what?" Ferb asks.

"Uh, nothing… That's it." Django replies awkwardly.

"Ah, so you just smear it like this?" Ferb asks as he moves his thumb across the page, and I have to admit it looks childishly simple when he does it.

"Yeah, that's it." Django says as he looks down like he's almost embarrassed.

"Good technique," Ferb says before standing up. "I'll have to remember that." And while his voice doesn't sound sarcastic or unfriendly it's hard to believe he meant what he said sincerely.

"Yeah," Django says before standing up and grabbing his drawing. "I've gotta go. I'll catch you guys later."

"Bye," I say as Ferb waves to Django's already turned back. He's out of the room in no time flat.

I turn to look at Ferb, but he just shrugs.

"His shading really is lovely." Ferb says, and I have no doubt that he means it.

"Yeah, he's a really great artist. He'll probably be as popular as his dad someday." I agree.

"Probably," Ferb agrees before he picks up my drawing. "I'm quite fond of the scuba diver."

"Really?" I ask, surprised that that is the part he pointed out. Like I said, people aren't my specialty.

"Not as fond as I am of the artist, but it is a nice scuba diver." Ferb says before he turns and begins walking to the door, which is probably good considering the blush on my face.

A part of me can't help but wonder why he hasn't asked me about what was going on with Django, but to be honest I'm kind of glad he hasn't. My fifteen year old body might be going crazy with hormones, but I know there's only one person I really want to kiss.

"By the way, you might want to let Django know you aren't interested. I don't think the poor bloke knows." Ferb informs me as he stops at the door to wait for me, which only makes me blush harder.

"I'll do that." I manage to choke out as I walk to meet him by the door.

Once I'm beside him we start walking, but we don't get very far before I blurt out what I'm thinking.

"How did you know I wasn't interested?" I ask, although I'm glad he knows.

"I know you, Phin. You don't need to tell me those sorts of things." Ferb answers easily.

I nod although I can't help wondering if that means that he knows how I feel about him. If he knows I think about him all the time and fantasize about him romantically. I wonder if he knows that I have no interest in Django because I'm so interested in him. I wonder if he knows that I've been a love sick wreck ever since I turned fifteen.

Ugh, I hate being fifteen.

Ferb suddenly laughs.

"What?" I ask, suddenly afraid I said something out loud.

"Nothing. You just don't have to tell me how much you hate being fifteen for me to know either." Ferb says with an easy smile.

"As long as you know."


	11. Insecurity

**Fifteen: Insecurity**

**Authors Note: Hey guys! Sorry for the long wait. If it helps this is the longest chapter we've had of this story! Also, I wanted to let you guys know that there is an end in sight for this series. I've decided that chapter 15 will be the last chapter. That being said if there's any chapter idea you for sure want to see before we reach the end, let me know! Also, thank you guys so much for over 200 reviews! They mean the world to me!**

* * *

><p>I was never a very hateful person until I turned fifteen. It wasn't really until then that my life started throwing me enough lemons to make me upset. Before I turned fifteen I was pretty much a hate free person.<p>

Except when it came to clothes shopping.

Sure, when I was little it was easy. Go in, pick out the same thing I always did, and I was done. Voila!

But eventually I reached the age where that wasn't an option anymore. Weirdly they don't market the same clothes to, say, thirteen year olds as they do ten year olds. Go figure.

And of course, over this last year I've grown. I've gotten a little taller and more awkward looking, so now my clothes aren't fitting very well. And my mom just couldn't have that.

So that's why this morning was spent with me complaining to mom and being in a terrible mood. But that ended up being temporary since not too long into mom's headache Ferb stepped in and offered to take me. And given the headache she was getting, mom agreed pretty quickly.

And normally I'd be more than happy to spend the day with Ferb, but this is just not working out.

You see, I didn't really give my body much thought until I turned fifteen. It was just my body. Just the thing that held my tools and drew my blueprints. But now it's more than that.

It's one of the things that attracts other people to me. Or at least it's supposed to. I don't know if it is.

Much like I don't know if how I'm dressing is attracting anyone.

Am I stylish? Do I look presentable? I have literally no idea.

Are my pants hitting my hips in the right place? Is this shirt too tight? Do these things even go together?

Once again, I have no idea.

And the thing is I know Ferb knows. Ferb is a snazzy dresser. Or at least that's what girls say. I actually don't know because I think Ferb would look good in anything. Or nothing. Oh, God, nothing…

But now is not the time for those kinds of thoughts!

Because you see, I am currently in a dressing room with some clothes I picked up at random, with Ferb waiting outside the door for me. I've never known anxiety quite like this.

I know he's waiting for me to either come out with the clothes I'm going to purchase (well, technically mom will purchase. She did give me money) or come out in some clothes to ask his opinion.

Both options sound awful.

I don't want to buy something that looks bad and then have Ferb see me walking around in it. Really, I guess I don't want anyone to see me in bad clothes, but mostly I'm thinking of Ferb.

And then of course I don't want to ask his opinion on anything. I mean, his eyes on me, looking me over…

But not for good reasons! Just to see if I look bad. And I really don't want him to tell me I look bad.

I swear I was never this self-conscious until I was fifteen!

But the fact remains that I need to make a decision soon. If I wait too long I'll lose my second option, which although I'm avoiding, I know is the better choice.

Better for Ferb to think I look bad in something once than to think it every time I wear it.

So I have no choice but to hide my insecurity and face my brother. My very hot brother.

"Does this look okay?" I ask as I walk out of the fitting room to face Ferb.

My brother gives me a quick once over before walking away from the line of fitting rooms and back out into the store.

I've got to admit I didn't think I'd look so bad that he'd leave me. But of course Ferb is only gone a few minutes before he comes back with an arm full of clothing.

"Those don't fit you." Ferb explains before he hands me the new clothes and motions me back inside the fitting room.

Once I'm back inside I look at myself in the mirror. I didn't think I was that far off from my size. I guess my parts _are_ a little baggy.

So I take off the t-shirt and pants I've been trying on and grab the clothes Ferb handed me. The first t-shirt is nothing special. Just a basic orange shirt that Ferb probably knew I would like. The jeans, however, are skinny.

I've never worn a pair of skinny jeans in my life.

I know they're in style and everything, but I've never tried them before. Ferb looks good in them though. But then Ferb looks good in everything. I, on the other hand, do not look like some kind of sex god, so I am not sure if skinny jeans are for me.

I look past the skinny jeans and see that the other pants Ferb has selected aren't skinny. Just your normal run of the mill jeans. I'd say maybe Ferb grabbed these by mistake, but even in a hurry Ferb is precise. More than likely Ferb has decided to pull me out of my comfort zone.

_Great._

I'm considering saving these for last when I hear Ferb's voice through the door.

"Trust me, Phin." Ferb says, sounding amused.

It's amazing how he always knows exactly what I'm thinking. It's one of the things that makes me insanely attracted to him.

"I always do." I call back before I pull on the orange shirt.

It feels a little tighter than what I would normally wear, but not tremendously so. I'm just not really used to the fabric clinging to my body.

Then I take the skinny jeans and pull them on. Upon zipping them I find that they aren't exactly comfortable. They aren't unbearable, but I feel a little squished.

I look in the mirror, but I honestly don't know if they fit or not. They're the right length, and the fit in the legs isn't too bad, just a little clingy. But my butt and, er, _package_ look like they're straining against the denim.

Once again I prove that I don't know how to access clothing. And once again I must rely on the hottest man on earth to help me.

I walk out of the fitting room a little nervously and then wait for Ferb's assessment.

Maybe nothing will fit me to Ferb's liking. Maybe I should have just let mom take me.

Ferb is scanning my body with his eyes, and I wonder if the extra time he's taking is a sign that these clothes fit me better than the last ones.

"Well?" I ask as Ferb continues to look.

"Turn." Ferb demands.

I do as I'm told and turn until my butt is facing him. And of course this is when the real anxiety starts, because he is looking at my ass.

Is it nice? Does the tightness of these jeans make it look firm, or make it look ridiculously big? Does Ferb even care?

Why is he taking so long? He's been looking at my backside longer than he did my front.

Now I'm starting to blush, great. That is exactly what I need right now. To blush because my extremely hot stepbrother is looking at my butt. But why is he taking so long? Does he like what he sees? Should I tell him to take a picture? Heck, maybe take twenty. What do I care? It's his for the taking.

If he wanted to right now he could stroll on over and cop a feel. Heck, I'd be cool with full on groping. And if he wanted to rub against it a little—

Dear God! That is not why he's looking!

"Are you ever going to tell me how I look?" I ask, willing my blush to go down, as I look over my shoulder at Ferb.

Ferb is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and a light smile on his face. Although, I think the smile could almost be considered a smirk. Like he knows how uncomfortable he's making me, and he really enjoys it.

"You're a bit of a dish." Ferb tells me.

I blush again. It's something I've heard dad say about mom before, and it's more or less is just a British way of saying someone looks hot. I can hardly believe Ferb would say it about me.

"I— So they fit? Not too tight?" I manage to ask, still facing away from him. My face is on fire.

"Perfect fit." Ferb says, and his voice sounds a hair lower than usual.

"Right," I say as I manage to turn toward him. "I guess I've just never worn stuff like this before." I explain as I run a hand through my hair, causing my shirt to ride up. Ferb's eyes seem to dart to the exposed skin for a moment.

"Change can be a good thing, as long as it's not too much," Ferb says as he closes the distance between us to pull down on my shirt. "Maybe a size up in this shirt would be better."

I feel like my brain isn't working as he says it. I can barely even register what he said. He's so close. I can feel the heat coming off of his body, hear the sound of his breathing. But mostly I feel his fingers against the bare skin of sides, where he hasn't let go of the bottom of my shirt.

I want to move closer. I want his hands on my skin because just his fingers aren't enough. I want everything I can get from him, and then probably more still. I don't think anything could ever feel like enough.

Still I manage to force out a reply to him, "Whatever you think is best."

Ferb smiles at me, and I think this will be the moment that I actually throw myself at him. The moment where I'm not thinking enough to hold myself back.

But then a little kid runs into the hall of fitting rooms, his dad behind him, and Ferb lets go of me and takes a step back.

I almost groan in disappointment.

"You should try on the rest," Ferb says before he looks at his watch. "We're going to be late for dinner."

I nod, not bothering to look toward the father and son duo going into a fitting room. No matter how upset I am I can't glare at a little kid.

I quickly go back into my fitting room to try on the rest of my clothes. I can't help but think that what just happened will only make me more self-conscious about how I look. Or at the very least I'll think about it more.

Just one of the joys of being an insecure fifteen year old boy in love with his stepbrother.


End file.
